Echoes
by amyxaphania
Summary: What if Lily and James hadn’t died all those years ago, but had lived their lives as Muggles, with no knowledge of the magical world? Will they give up their new life for a world they know nothing about, and a son they don’t remember? ABANDONED
1. Prologue

**Prologue  
Redemption**

_October 31st 1981_

It had been done. No point in wishing it undone.

_He_ knew where to find them now. Within hours they would be dead.

Perhaps there was still time to do something. At the very least he could warn them, tell them what was planned.

No. He couldn't. Doing so would be worse than signing his own death warrant. The Dark Lord would know immediately what had happened, and would force it from his mind with ease.

But if he could…

No.

Everything seemed so much simpler in this form. With the ground soft beneath his paws and the cool grass brushing his belly, it felt like it would be so easy to tell them, to warn them.

But he couldn't.

A feeling that his rat-self couldn't name rose up in his throat, but the human part of his brain recognised it, and he swallowed it down again like a bitter pill.

Remorse.

Guilt.

Fear.

No.

There was no place for emotion on the path he had chosen. He had chosen to do this, to betray his friends, and there was no going back.

What if…?

The rat pushed the half-formed thought away, knowing its complication. His human-self chased after the idea and pulled it back.

If there was a way…

Could he do it?

Would he do it?

_Should_ he do it?

If the Dark Lord ever found out…

He may not be able to save the child, but its parents - his friends…he could save them. To the uncomplicated mind of the rat, it made sense: a sort of pre-emptive redemption for what had yet to happen. It would be all the kindness he could afford.

He would do it.

* * *

It was dark, but a warm glow emanated from within the house.

He had found out what was necessary, and he was ready.

He could do it.

He would save his friends from the fate he himself had already bound them to.

Making sure he was entirely concealed behind the bush, he transformed from rat to human, and pulled out his wand.

"_Vox Letum_ Potter," he whispered, thinking all the while of James and Lily, his friends.

A burst of light shot from the end of his wand and spread, settling itself over the house before fading from sight.

Satisfied that he had done what he could for his friends, he became a rat once more, and scurried away, not looking back.

From somewhere within the house, a baby cried.

* * *

**A/N: Very short, but the following chapters will be longer. Thanks for reading, and please review!**


	2. Curiosity and the Cat

**A/N: Please note that this story is ever so slightly AU, in that some aspects of DH didn't happen. The biggest thing for the world I'm writing here is that Harry didn't use the resurrection stone, so keep that in mind.**

**Happy reading!**

**Chapter One – Curiosity and the Cat**

Minerva McGonagall breathed a sigh of relief as the last of the carriages left the school grounds, and the gates clicked shut behind it.

It wasn't that she didn't enjoy the school year – on the contrary in fact – but this past year had been a struggle, and she wasn't getting any younger.

Just over two years ago, the Final Battle – as it was now being called – had taken place on these very grounds. The two years following the war had been a whir of confusion: happiness at the war being over mingling with sadness for all the lives that had been lost.

Kingsley Shacklebolt had taken lead at the broken Ministry, and she herself had taken charge over Hogwarts itself. She had vowed to herself that the school would open its gates on the first of September as it always did, and that life would go on.

And now over two years had passed, and the magical world was slowly getting back on its feet. Having proven himself as a leader, Shacklebolt had been quickly voted in as Minister of Magic, and had wasted no time in officially appointing Minerva to position of Headmistress.

There was still work to be done, of course, but Minerva thought that perhaps a holiday would do her good. Somewhere near the sea, perhaps…

A soft cough broke into her thoughts and she glanced upwards, sweeping the room until her eyes finally settled on the portrait of a dumpy witch, with grey-blonde hair and glasses.

"Minerva," the witch said, "the book's calling."

"Oh," Minerva replied, smiling at Headmistress Dowrimple, "thank you."

She stood and made her way to the ledger where the book rested, thinking wryly to herself that a headmistress's work was never done, and tapped the glowing book with her wand.

It fell open to a page about mid-way through, and Minerva peered through her glasses at the neat script.

Aislinn Claire Bryans 

_16th July 1988_

_Muggleborn_

_Cushendun, Ireland_

_Cushendun_, Minerva smiled to herself. Ireland would be nice this time of year.

* * *

Harry grimaced as he heard a crash that meant something else had fallen on the floor and broken.

"Ron!" came Hermione's voice, shrill with anger, "for Merlin's sake be careful! That's the fifth one today! Reparo."

"I don't see what the problem is," Ron grumbled, and Harry could hear the eye-roll in his voice, "not when we can repair them just as easily."

"That's not the point," Hermione said impatiently, "the point is that you could at least _try_ and be a little less clumsy."

Ron snorted. "Well if you hadn't left the box there in the first place then I wouldn't have knocked it off the table, would I?"

"Stop trying to turn this around on me, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione's voice was becoming shriller by the minute, and Harry thought it would be safer if he left now, before-

"And you can stay where you are, Harry Potter!"

Harry groaned, and turned to face his friends. "I just remembered this thing I have to do," he said, shuffling towards the door. "So I'll leave you to it."

"Oh no you don't," Hermione said, and the door slammed shut just as he was about to step through it. "You said you'd help us move in, and that's what you're going to do."

"Hermione!" he groaned, "you and Ron seem to have things under control, so I-" He was cut off by another very loud crash, and turned to see Ron standing next to the kitchen table, which now only had two legs.

"It wasn't me!" Ron was saying, as Harry quietly edged towards the door and turned the handle, "my wand slipped and the table legs-"

Harry didn't stay to hear any more, chuckling as he closed the door behind him. A quick turn on the spot, and moments later he was standing outside the door of his own flat. As much as he loved his friends, he didn't want to stick around to witness another argument. He'd helped them get all their stuff up to the flat; the tidying up part was down to them.

_Besides_, he thought, as he stepped into the hallway of his flat and was almost bowled over by a flurry of red hair, and shining brown eyes, _I had another very good reason to want to get out of there._

* * *

Minerva always made it a point to observe the family before approaching them. She knew from past experience that simply turning up and stating outright that the child was a witch or wizard was the wrong way to go about it.

No, it was better to watch them, to learn what sort of family they were before deciding the best way to tell them.

She had arrived in Cushendun village earlier that day, and quickly located the Bryans' household in her animagus form. It was a perfectly pleasant house; nothing out of the ordinary.

A few moments after Minerva had arrived, a girl with long dark hair stormed from the house, slamming the front door behind her and muttering to herself.

"Bloody Ciaran Conway, making up lies. I hate him-"

Minerva jumped down from the wall she'd been sitting on, and padded after the girl – Aislinn – intent on finding out a little more about one of her soon-to-be students.

* * *

_I hate him. _Splash! _I hate him, I _hate _him._Splash!

Ash sighed as she threw pebble after pebble into the grey waves. She hadn't done it; she knew she hadn't done it. How could she have?

Miss Keene certainly seemed to think she'd done it, and Ciaran's parents, and even _her _parents.

"_You were the only one in the room with him, Aislinn. Who else could it have been?"_

Ciaran had said he couldn't remember anything happening, that he must have fainted. Ash snorted. Ciaran Conway, fainting?

But the truth remained that she _had_ been the only one in the room with him; the teacher had left a few minutes before to get a cup of coffee.

She remembered staring at the back of his head, hating him for landing her in detention, wishing that something horrible would happen to him…and then his hair had disappeared.

It had gone, and Ash had found herself boring holes into a shiny, bald head.

And now she was in trouble, her parents and teachers demanding to know how she'd done it.

_I didn't do it. I couldn't have. It can't have been me._

Splash!

* * *

"It went well, then?" Harry asked, as he pulled off his trainers, "when will you hear?"

"It was great!" Ginny replied, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the kitchen, "I really think they liked me, you know. Gwenog Jones called me over when I'd finished and said I'd flown really well. Cup of tea?"

Harry nodded, and sat down at the kitchen table. "I've got a good feeling, Gin. You'll get on the team, I know it."

"Oh, I hope so!" Ginny sat down beside him, the kettle bubbling merrily away on the stove behind her, "They said they'd let us know one way or the other some time in the next week."

Harry leaned over and squeezed her hand. "You'll get it."

Ginny grinned back, "How was your day, anyway? Ron and Hermione settled in?"

"Not likely," Harry grinned, "I left them arguing about vanishing table legs – and that was after Ron had broken five dinner plates."

"Oh dear," Ginny said, as she stood up to pour the boiling water into two mugs, "I doubt Hermione was very happy."

"No I wasn't," Hermione's voice made them both jump, and they turned to see their friend's head hovering in the fire. "Harry, I can't believe you just disappeared like that!"

"Sorry," Harry said, looking sheepish, "I thought it'd be better to leave you and Ron to work things out. Besides, I needed to find out how Ginny did at her try-out."

"Oh!" Hermione's eyes widened, "I completely forgot! How was it Ginny? Did you get on the team?"

"I'll find out sometime this week," Ginny said, "look, why don't you and Ron come over? We can chat about it properly and you can have a break from sorting your flat out."

"Yeah," Hermione nodded, "good idea. We'll be there in a sec."

Her head disappeared from the fire, and good to her word, several seconds later two loud pops sounded from the hallway.

* * *

The girl had spent an hour or so at the beach, throwing stones into the sea and muttering to herself, before wandering back into the village and buying a bag of sweets from a newsagents.

Minerva was careful to follow at a cautious distance, and felt slightly disheartened that she hadn't found out much about the girl, or her family, except that Aislinn was angry with someone – a boy at her school.

Aislinn appeared to be headed home now, her footsteps retracing the path she'd taken towards the beach that morning.

Minerva was pleased to see a car in the driveway when they arrived back at the house – the girl's parents were home.

She watched as Aislinn rang the bell, and had the door opened to her by a tall man with black hair and glasses. Her father, presumably.

Aislinn gave her father a one-armed hug as she walked past him into the house, and the man smiled, and closed the door.

_A caring family, then_, Minerva thought to herself, and stretched out on the low wall, basking in the late afternoon sunshine. _And the man had a friendly face. It's always better to deal with friendly people when you tell them news like this._

She continued to watch the house, occasionally catching glimpses of Aislinn and her father when they walked past the broad bay window at the front of the house.

A while later, a car pulled up onto the drive behind the one that was already parked, and Minerva pricked her ears and sat up straighter. _Here's the mother._

The woman had long red hair, reminding Minerva faintly of the Weasley's, and very pale skin.

"Ash," the mother called, "come and help me with the shopping."

Minerva turned and saw that the girl had opened the front door, and was now moving down the path. When she reached her mother, she was gathered into a hug, and Minerva nodded approvingly. _Definitely a loving family._

The woman glanced up as she hugged her daughter, and Minerva froze. _Those eyes…_

The girl screamed, her shriek echoed by a shout from her mother, and a call from her father asking what was wrong, but Minerva barely heard them as she stared in shock at a woman who had died so many years ago.

Lily Potter.


	3. The Potters

**Chapter Two – The Potters**

Minerva stood up slowly; cursing herself for allowing the shock let her animagus form slip.

She stared at the woman before her, and then turned her head to see the man moving towards them, and wondered how she hadn't seen it before, when he'd opened the door to his daughter.

Lily and James Potter. There was no doubt.

A million thoughts whirled through Minerva's mind; the prevalent one being _this is impossible._

She wondered if she could be mistaken. Perhaps the couple standing before her simply looked remarkably like the Potters, or perhaps it was someone's idea of a sick joke.

But her heart was telling her that it was really them, and there was a familiarity about them that was hard to ignore.

"What are you?" the man broke the uneasy silence that had settled, his eyes wary.

"I-" Minerva began, all of a sudden lost for words. What could she possibly say? They didn't seem to know her, recognise her.

"Y-you were the cat," the girl said, suddenly, "the cat that's been following me all day, that was sat on the wall just now. You're the cat."

Minerva frowned, and came to a decision. She was still headmistress of Hogwarts, and she was here with a job to do. She would do her job, and then – then, she would find out what on earth was going on.

"I'm Professor Minerva McGonagall, from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…"

* * *

"I can't believe it," Aislinn said, her eyes wide, "this is why so many strange things have happened to me lately? Like Ciaran Conway's hair? Because I'm a _witch_?"

Minerva nodded, and smiled. She never tired of seeing the expression on a Muggleborn witch or wizard's face when they found out, even in a situation like this.

After the initial shock of seeing a grey and black cat transform into a stern-faced woman, John and Laura Bryans – as they'd introduced themselves – had been perfectly amenable and welcomed Minerva into their home, where she explained that Aislinn was a witch and had a place at Hogwarts.

From the moment she'd stepped into the house, Minerva had watched the couple, and was almost entirely sure that they were Lily and James Potter. Subtle things – like the way they talked, the inflections in their voices and the gestures of their hands – further confirmed her suspicions, and made her sure that they were not clever disguises. She'd worked with the Potters numerous times on Order business during the first war, not to mention taught both of them for seven years at Hogwarts – she knew them well.

What she was having difficulty working out was _how_ this had happened. They had died, betrayed by Peter Pettigrew and murdered by Voldemort almost twenty years ago. She had gone to the funeral, had been there when the coffins were lowered into the ground.

Yet…here they were. Minerva was a logical woman, and she had trouble reconciling what she knew to be fact, with the evidence staring her in the face.

"Professor?"

Minerva jumped slightly, and realised she had been staring. She allowed herself a smile at how quickly the young girl had accepted her new life, even slipping seamlessly into calling her Professor.

"Where will I go to buy all this stuff?" Aislinn held the list up, and laughed, "Sure, you couldn't get all this at the supermarket!"

"There's a place in London, an all wizarding area, called Diagon Alley. You'll be able to get everything you need from there."

Aislinn nodded, and returned to poring over her Hogwarts letter.

Minerva knew she had to talk to James and Lily – John and Laura – and try to piece together what had happened. Clearly they'd had their memories modified, for nothing she said about the wizarding world registered any recognition on their faces.

"Aislinn-"

"Ash," she was interrupted, "I prefer Ash."

"Ash," Minerva began again, "would you mind leaving me alone with your parents for a moment? There are one or two things we need to discuss."

"Oh, sure," Aislinn said, folding up her letter and slipping it carefully back into the envelope, before turning to her parents. "I'll be in my room."

Minerva took out her wand. "Would you mind if I ran a few tests?" she asked, "It's standard for the parents of a Muggleborn."

James – _John_ – shook his head, and Minerva raised her wand, muttering a spell. Moments later, both of them began to emanate a golden glow that seemed to come from deep within. _Definitely magical, then_.

"Thank you," she said, returning her wand to her pocket, "were either of you aware of the magical world before today?"

"No," replied Lily – _Laura_ – shaking her head. "We've noticed Ash doing a few odd things lately, but apart from that, nothing."

Minerva nodded, "How long have you lived in Ireland? Aislinn's got the accent, but you two are definitely English."

"We've been here eighteen years," James replied, "it's a bit of an odd story, actually."

"I'd like to hear it," Minerva said, having quickly worked out that eighteen years ago…Lily and James Potter were killed.

"It's not all that interesting, to be honest," James said, smiling, "we just turned up here, almost eighteen years ago. No recollection of how we got here, or why we were here – just woke up one day in a hospital a few miles away. Amnesia, the doctors said. The only thing I remembered was that Laura was my wife and that I loved her. We didn't even know our names, just that they began with L and J, and we only knew that from the engravings on our rings."

"So you remember nothing from before that?"

"Nothing," Lily said, "but we've managed to build our lives here. We've got good friends and jobs, and a beautiful daughter. We're happy."

Minerva nodded, and stood up. "I should be going now. I have – a lot to do."

"Of course," James said, standing up, "thank you for making our daughter very happy."

Minerva smiled, "You'll receive a letter within the next few weeks letting you know how to get to Diagon Alley for school supplies." She knew that if she gave them the letter now, as was customary, and they went to Diagon Alley, someone was bound to recognise them.

"I have no doubt I'll see you again." They shook hands, and Minerva left the house, her mind a maelstrom of thoughts and questions.

_Looks like the holiday's out of the question,_ she thought wryly, spinning on the spot and apparating to Hogsmeade.

* * *

_Dear Harry,_

_Something's come up that you need to know about._

_If you could come up to Hogwarts at your earliest convenience, I'd be very grateful._

_Minerva McGonagall_

* * *


	4. A Thousand Feelings

**Chapter Three – A Thousand Feelings**

Harry groaned as he heard the familiar tapping of an owl at the window. He rolled over and glanced at the clock on his nightstand. One in the morning. Who could possibly have sent an owl at one in the morning?

"Go 'way," he muttered, hoping the owl would heed his mumbled plea and return in the morning.

"Whassat?" Ginny said, her voice heavy with sleep.

"An owl," Harry replied, peeling back the duvet and heaving himself out of bed, "I'll get it, you go back to sleep."

"An owl at one in the morning's not going to be good news Harry," Ginny said, sounding worried.

Harry frowned, and opened the latch on the window, letting the owl in. It dropped a letter into his hands, swooped around the room once, and flew out the window.

"I guess whoever sent it doesn't need a reply," he said, slitting the top of the envelope open and pulling out the parchment within.

"What is it?"

"It's from McGonagall, she wants to see me as soon as possible." He passed Ginny the note as he climbed back into bed.

"It's strange she doesn't say what it's about," Ginny said, "do you think it's something bad?"

Harry's mind instantly conjured images of Voldemort, of Death Eaters, but he closed his eyes and forced them away. The war was over; Voldemort was dead and never coming back.

"If it was anything really important she would have said, or told me to come right away."

"True," Ginny conceded, settling back on the pillows, "when will you go to see her?"

"In the morning," he replied, putting the note on the bedside table and lying back, putting his arms around Ginny as she laid her head on his shoulder.

"I'll come with you, if you like," she said, "if it's nothing too important, we can stop in at Hagrid's on the way back. He'd like that."

"Yeah," Harry said, his eyes already drifting shut.

* * *

McGonagall was waiting for them on the steps of the school when they arrived the next morning. Harry noticed that her skin was pale, and she had dark smudges beneath her eyes.

"Hello, Professor," Harry said as they reached the steps, "is everything all right?"

"Hello Harry, Ginny," McGonagall smiled as she saw them, "nobody's in any danger, if that's what you mean, but something has come up that you ought to know about."

Harry frowned, wondering what this was all about, and was about to ask when McGonagall beckoned them into the castle.

"We'll be more comfortable in my office."

They followed her through the silent halls of Hogwarts, towards the gargoyle that marked the entrance to the Headmistress's office.

"_Shrubbery_," McGonagall muttered, and the gargoyle slid aside, and they stepped onto the moving staircase.

Once they were seated, with a cup of tea and a biscuit each, McGonagall regarded Harry with something akin to sadness.

"Harry, I'm not entirely sure where to begin with this. It sounds unbelievable…I'm not even sure I believe it myself yet and I've seen them with my own eyes…"

"Professor?" Harry interrupted, his curiosity getting the better of him, "what is it? What's going on?"

"I visited a Muggleborn yesterday, with her first Hogwarts letter," McGonagall began, haltingly.

She proceeded to tell Harry and Ginny everything that had happened the previous day; from following Aislinn Bryans to the beach, to discovering that Lily and James Potter were alive and well.

"And now, you see, I don't know what to do. This is unprecedented; how do you proceed with something like this?"

Harry hadn't moved since McGonagall had recounted the part about his parents. He had half-listened to the rest of the story, his eyes staring ahead, his mind awash with confused and barely-formed thoughts.

He could feel Ginny's hand on his back, and she was saying something to him, but he couldn't hear what.

His parents were alive.

He couldn't get his head around it.

If this was true – and he couldn't quite believe it yet, not until he saw them for himself – it would also mean he had a sister. Aislinn.

"And they remember nothing about their lives as James and Lily Potter?" he heard Ginny ask. He shook his head slightly, to try and clear it, and looked towards McGonagall.

"Nothing. I assume they were hit by a very strong Memory Charm, but to how they ended up in Ireland, and _why_, I can't imagine."

"My parents have graves," Harry said suddenly, "if they were still alive, how were their bodies there after Voldemort's attack?"

"I don't know," McGonagall answered truthfully, "that is just one of the many questions I've been asking myself since yesterday afternoon."

"I'm finding this hard to take in," Harry said, closing his eyes. "Do you think I should go and see them? Should we try and reverse the memory charm?"

"To be honest Harry, I am at a loss," McGonagall pressed the tips of her fingers to her temple, "it's times like this that I wish Albus was still around."

"I want to see them," Harry said, smiling, but then his face fell. "They won't know me, though, will they?"

"They won't remember they had a son, no," McGonagall said, "but your resemblance to James is uncanny, and you have your mother's eyes. They'll see."

"Do you think we'll be able to break the memory charm?" Harry asked, "or find out how this happened?"

"The Healers at St. Mungo's will be able to help, and the Ministry will likely get involved once this gets out."

A horrible thought pushed its way into Harry's mind, and he swallowed the lump it brought to his throat. "Will they want to have the memory charm broken?" His voice was hoarse, and to his horror he felt a prickling at the corners of his eyes.

McGonagall looked down at her desk, and appeared to be concentrating very hard on the parchment upon it. "I don't know, Harry. I don't want to give you false hope and say yes – but I sincerely hope they will. If anyone deserves something like this to happen, it's you."

Harry nodded, and stood up. McGonagall handed him a sheet of parchment with the address of his parent's house on it. _His parents_.

"Thank you, Professor," he said, and left the room, Ginny's hand clutched within his own.

Professor McGonagall sighed, and turned to face a painting on the wall.

"There's no use pretending to be asleep Albus," she said, "I know you were listening."

"Hello, Minerva."

"You could have offered your advice, Albus. I'm floundering here."

"I think you're doing a marvellous job," Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling, "a marvellous job indeed, of such an unforeseen turn of events. Who am I to interfere when you're handling things with such aplomb?"

"Really, Albus, what can we do?"

"What we have always done, let things take their natural course. Harry is a strong young man, and the fact that his parents are alive can only be for the better."

"I hope you're right, Albus, I hope you're right."

* * *

Ginny looked at Harry warily as they walked across the Hogwarts grounds. He hadn't said anything since leaving McGonagall's office, but he had a strange look on his face; somewhere in between sadness and elation.

They had almost reached the school gates, when he suddenly turned around, his face splitting into a grin.

"They're alive, Gin!" he said, "my God, they're alive!"

He pulled her towards him and kissed her, and Ginny could feel his happiness in the kiss.

His good mood was contagious, and she grinned back, but couldn't help feeling a little scared. What if Lily and James Potter – Laura and John as they called themselves – didn't want to remember their old lives? What if they didn't believe Harry, didn't want to know him?

From everything she'd been told about the Potters, she thought it would be unlikely, but the doubt remained.

Harry was swinging their arms as they walked, and so she tried to forget her fear and smiled at him. He was undoubtedly having the same thoughts, but if he could forget them, why couldn't she? All she wanted was for him to be happy.

* * *

As soon as they got home, Harry flooed Ron and Hermione to tell them, and Ginny dashed off a quick note to her parents, explaining the complicated situation in the shortest way possible.

"Hermione's at work," Harry said as he came to sit at the kitchen table, "but Ron was there, and he thinks I should go straight away. His actual words were 'Bloody Hell. Why aren't you in Ireland yet?'"

Ginny giggled. "That's just like Ron."

"So, how about it? Shall we go now?" Harry frowned, "I'm a bit scared, to be honest. What if they don't want to know me?"

"If you want some time Harry, we don't have to go straight away. We can wait a couple of days, or however long you want."

"No," Harry said, "I want to go soon. Today."

"Okay," Ginny smiled, "today it is."

* * *

The village they apparated into was pretty. Harry cast around for the right word to describe it. _Picturesque,_ he thought, _it's picturesque._

He felt Ginny squeeze his hand and smiled. It was good to know that she was here with him.

They strolled through the centre of the village, and with every step they took towards his parent's house, Harry felt a shred of doubt and nervousness settle in his mind.

Eventually, they came to number twenty-three Cave Road, and stopped outside the gate.

"This is it then," Ginny said, squeezing Harry's hand once more.

"This is it," Harry replied, his face a conflicting picture of fear and joy.

Harry pushed open the wrought iron gate and began to walk towards the red front door. _Why does it feel like I'm walking towards my execution?_

Ginny sent him a reassuring smile, and he lifted his hand to press the doorbell. A thousand feelings coursed through him at once, he felt himself holding his breath, and then the door was open, and standing before him was a woman with long red hair, and green eyes –_his _eyes.

His mother.

* * *

A/N: This is the chapter I'm most nervous about. Trying to work out what Harry's reaction would be upon hearing this news was extremely difficult. I hope I've done it at least some justice! Thanks for reading, and please review! 


	5. Discoveries

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in getting this up! Real life intervened. Anyway, the next chapter is half-written, so hopefully it won't be too long. Enjoy!**

**Chapter Four – Discoveries**

"H-hello," Harry said, his voice cracking. Lily Potter was staring at him, a slight frown on her face.

"Can I help you?" she said, "You look familiar, are you a friend of John's?"

"No, I-" Harry shook his head, revelling in hearing his mother's voice and basking in the sight of her. There could be no doubt that this was Lily Potter. "Professor McGonagall was here yesterday? It's- it's to do with that."

"Oh," Lily said, looking faintly surprised, but then smiling, "well you'd better come in then." She stood back to allow them into the house, and then closed the door behind them. "I'm afraid my husband's at work at the moment, and Aislinn's out with friends. So you're stuck with me." She half-shrugged and smiled again.

"You're- you're great," Harry said, "but- would you be able to call your husband home? He should hear this."

"Oh, erm, I can do. He should be on his lunch hour soon anyway."

"Thanks," Harry said, and tried to smile reassuringly.

Lily left the living room, and Harry could hear the sound of a telephone being lifted from its cradle.

He squeezed his eyes shut, and when he opened them he found Ginny watching him nervously. "How're you feeling?" she asked.

"I'm…okay," Harry let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, "she knows there's something not quite right, but…"

Ginny nodded, and was about to say more when Lily came back into the room.

"John's on his way now, he only works ten minutes away so he shouldn't be too long," she paused, "I'm sorry, how rude, I haven't introduced myself properly. Laura Bryans." She held out her hand.

"Harry Potter," Harry said, reaching out and grasping her hand, trying to quell the urge that was rising up in him to just blurt out the truth. "And this is Ginny Weasley."

"Pleased to meet you," Lily smiled, "can I get either of you a drink?"

Harry answered, and Lily left to make a cup of tea.

"My heart's beating so fast," he whispered to Ginny, "this is…surreal."

Their whispered conversation was cut short a few minutes later when Lily returned with the tea, and a plate of biscuits. Shortly after that, a car pulled up in the drive and Harry held his breath as its occupant entered the house.

James Potter. His father. The resemblance was undeniable: the messy hair, the shape of his face, even the way in which he walked reminded Harry of himself.

Harry stood up to shake his hand, unconsciously wiping his palms on his trousers, and the moment his eyes met his father's, James gasped.

"What's going on?" James said, letting go of Harry's hand and turning to face his wife, "who is he?"

"I don't know," Lily replied, "they said they know Professor McGonagall."

"Have you seen what he looks like?" James said, and then turned on Harry, "is this some kind of joke? A trick, a magic spell? Who are you?"

"My name's Harry Potter," Harry replied, and closed his eyes, deciding to just say it, get it out. "I'm your son."

--

Echoed gasps sounded in the room, and Lily stumbled backwards and sat down on the sofa, her hand pressed to her mouth and tears in her eyes.

"I thought-" she said, wiping her hand across her eyes, "when I opened the door, for the slightest moment I thought- after the questions the Professor asked yesterday…and you looking just like John…"

"Our son?" James' voice was hoarse, but he quickly put the pieces of the puzzle together, "from- before? From before we can remember?"

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He glanced at Ginny, and she nodded encouragingly.

"Your names aren't John and Laura Bryans," he began, unsure of how to start, "you're James and Lily Potter. You're a wizard and a witch, and I always- I always thought that you were dead. Everyone did. Eighteen years ago this Halloween, a wizard named Voldemort killed you, well, he didn't – obviously…but everyone always thought he did." Harry paused, looking towards Lily and James to see how they were taking it.

Both wore identical expressions of shock, mingled with curiosity. Neither said anything, and Harry took this as a cue to continue.

"He tried to kill me too, but I survived." He turned to Lily and smiled, "You protected me, you jumped in front of the killing curse and because you loved me, when Voldemort – that's the name of the wizard – tried to kill me too, the curse rebounded on him. I always thought you'd died…"

"This is-" James began, "this is difficult to take in."

"Tell me about it," Harry grinned, "imagine finding out your dead parents are actually alive."

James grinned back, and Harry felt his heart leap in his chest.

"Lily," his mother said, "Lily, not Laura. I think – it- it sounds familiar."

"Why can't we remember anything about our previous lives?" James asked, "What happened to us?"

"We don't know," Harry said, "McGonagall thinks that some sort of memory charm was put on you, but by who, and how you ended up here, we don't know."

"If you agree to it," Ginny put in suddenly, "we can try and reverse the memory charm. There are specialists at St. Mungo's – that's the hospital - who can help."

"And then, if you wanted, you could get to know me," he paused, and then the next words stumbled off his tongue in haste, "only if you wanted, I mean."

There was a moment's silence, and Harry held his breath, hoping against hope that they would say yes.

"I think I'd – we'd - like that very much, Harry," Lily said, moving to stand by him. She placed her hand on his shoulder, "I want to remember you, and everything about our lives."

Harry felt his face break into a grin, and he looked towards James.

"Do you feel the same?" he asked.

"Yes," James said, "very much so."

Harry felt like his smile couldn't get any wider. His parents were alive, they were here and they wanted to know him, to remember him.

He couldn't remember feeling so happy.

--

Ginny helped Lily make a round of sandwiches, whilst Harry explained Quidditch to James, saying all the while that there wasn't much point in explaining really, as he'd be getting his memories back soon.

They chatted with an ease Harry hadn't expected, and he didn't know why he felt so surprised about it.

"How soon can we restore our memories?" James asked later that afternoon.

"As soon as possible," Harry said, "I reckon the Healers at St. Mungo's will be falling over themselves to help – you'll be pretty famous when you come back into the wizarding world, you know."

"Famous?" James asked, biting into a ham and cheese sandwich, "because of the thing that happened with this Voldemort?"

"Yes," Ginny replied, and then grinned, "the name Potter's quite synonymous with fame these days – considering Harry beat the bastard twice."

"Twice?" Lily repeated, and Harry launched into the tale of the final battle, not minding nearly so much telling it to his parents as he did anyone else.

He told them little else about the intervening eighteen years, knowing that too much at once would be too hard to take in. _We have a lifetime to talk_.

It was nearing five o' clock when Lily let out a yelp and jumped to her feet. "Oh Lord, I was meant to fetch Aislinn at five." She looked towards Harry and Ginny; "I think…it would be better if we explained everything to her first," she said slowly, "before you meet her I mean."

"I understand," Harry nodded, feeling slightly disappointed that he wouldn't be meeting his sister tonight.

"Can you come back tomorrow?" James said, "You can meet her then."

"Definitely," Harry grinned, "I'll try and get an appointment with a Healer for you, as well."

"Have you got somewhere to stay?" Lily said, "there are some nice hotels down in the village."

"Oh, we'll be going home for the night," Harry said, "apparation – perk of being a wizard."

"I really ought to go," Lily said, and then stepped forwards and pulled Harry into a hug. "I'm sorry we weren't there for you," she whispered into his ear, and Harry felt tears prick at his eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Harry nodded, and shook James' hand, smiled at Ginny and they both turned on the spot and disapparated.

--

"I feel like singing," Harry said, when they arrived back at the flat.

"Please don't," Ginny teased, "I don't think my eardrums could survive it."

"Oi! I'll have you know I have a wonderful singing voice!" He struck a highly exaggerated pose and opened his mouth, but before he could get a single note out, Ginny barrelled into his side and he fell onto the floor with an 'oof.

"Stop it!" he called, as Ginny's fingers tickled mercilessly at his side, "I surrender!"

Ginny stopped tickling, and lay down on the floor next to him. "I can't believe it, Harry."

"I know," Harry replied, sitting up slightly and propping his head on his arm, "I keep thinking that this is a dream, and that any moment now I'll wake up."

Ginny lifted her head off the ground and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Come on, we need to write to McGonagall, and then St. Mungo's…"

--

For some odd reason, Harry found going back the next day harder than the first time. Subconsciously he wondered if perhaps they'd changed their minds, and he said as much out loud.

Ginny told him not to be stupid, and before he knew it, they were standing outside the red door.

It was opened by a girl, around eleven-years-old, with long dark hair and bright green eyes.

"You must be Harry," she said, opening the door a little wider, and letting them step inside, "I'm Aislinn."

"I know," Harry said, unsure whether this was the right thing to say, and then, "this is Ginny, my girlfriend."

"Hi," Ginny said, smiling.

Aislinn smiled back, and then looked at Harry, eyes appraising. "You're definitely my brother," she said eventually, "we look way too much alike to be anything else. Dad was telling me about something called Quidditch…"

--

Harry had hoped the trip to St. Mungo's would go without a hitch, but it became clear when they arrived at the deserted department store, with the green-clad dummy in the window, that the appointment would be anything but smooth.

Somehow, word had got out that Harry Potter would be at the hospital that morning, and a crowd of reporters had turned up, cameras and Quick Quote Quill's at the ready.

"Mr Potter! Mr Potter! Over here, Mr Potter!"

Harry frowned, and ignored the reporter's calls. Lily and James were following behind, looking bemused and perplexed by the attention Harry was getting.

"Is it like this everywhere you go?" James asked, glancing at the reporters warily.

"Pretty much," Harry shrugged uncomfortably, "they haven't been as bad lately, but a hospital appointment – well, that must be big news." He rolled his eyes and turned to the dummy in the window.

"Harry Potter, I've got an appointment with Healer Wight."

The dummy nodded and beckoned him forwards.

"You need to walk through the glass," Harry told his parents, "just follow me."

Harry stepped through the shop window, and so missed the bewildered glances Lily and James threw at each other.

--

"Well," Healer Wight sighed heavily, "this isn't the work of an ordinary Memory Charm. I've never seen anything like it."

"You can reverse it though?" Harry said, a feeling of worry surging through him.

Lily and James had patiently undergone several tests by the Healer and his team, and because they had no memory of the wizarding world, Harry could see that they were perplexed and slightly frightened by it all.

"It will take time," the Healer replied, frowning as he looked at the results of one of the tests, "and more than one complicated potion. But I'm confident we can do it."

"That's great," Harry grinned.

"I must say," Healer Wight continued, directing his words at Lily and James, "it's wonderful to have you back Mr and Mrs Potter. A wonder indeed."

They left the office an hour or so later, with Healer Wight's continued promises that he would do everything in his power to see the Potters' memories restored. 

--

When they stepped back outside, the crowd of reporters had doubled in size. The calls of "Mr Potter!" started up again immediately, but this time, Harry noticed the calls of "Mrs Potter!" too.

Had Lily and James been recognised already?

As normal, he ignored the reporters and hurried his parents through the crush. He led them across the road and hurriedly turned the corner, glancing back several times to make sure that the reporters hadn't followed.

They hadn't, bur what now? How exactly did one go about re-introducing your supposedly dead parents back into society?

It was a short walk back to his flat, and they walked mostly in silence. Harry was contemplating what to do next, whilst Lily and James thought about what Healer Wight had said.

Once back at the flat, he offered his parents a cup of tea, and they sat down at the kitchen table.

"Sorry about all the reporters," Harry said, then fell silent. He didn't know what else to say.

"Oh, it's all right," Lily said, her smile reassuring, "I did think I heard them say Mrs Potter though, when we left. Do you think they realised?"

"Yeah," Harry said, swirling the dregs of his tea in the bottom of the mug, "I've been trying to think about what to do next. Do we release a press statement? Let it get out by word-of-mouth? What?"

"Press statement."

Harry jumped, and turned to see Hermione's head floating in the fire behind him. Lily let out a scream, and Harry had to smile.

"Merlin, Hermione, you've got to stop doing that!"

"Sorry. Can I come through? Only I've been doing some research and I think I've found something – oh, hello Mr Potter, Mrs Potter."

Harry grinned. Hermione when she was excited about research was always a sight to see.

"Sure, come through."

"Great. Two ticks."

Harry turned to his parents. "It's floo," he said, "you can connect to other people's fireplaces and talk, or-"

A whoosh of green flames interrupted him and Hermione stepped out of the fireplace.

"-travel."

"That's quite something," James said, "although I think I'd be a bit nervous about stepping into a fire."

"Oh, it's perfectly safe," Hermione said as she dropped a heavy book onto the table, then reddened slightly. "I'm sorry, how rude, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Hermione Granger."

She shook hands with Lily and James, and then sat down at the table, and turned to Harry.

"I was so intrigued – and confused – when I heard that your parents were alive, Harry, that I just had to try and find out what happened. Professor McGonagall let me use the Hogwarts library, and I found this."

She riffled through the pages of the book, and eventually came across the page she'd been looking for.

"Look, here, it's a passage on magical displacement."

She handed the book to Harry, who bent his head and read aloud.

"_Magical Displacement is a practice that has, thankfully, become obsolete over the past century. It borders on the Dark, and as such the incantation needed is not provided here, only the theory. Magical Displacement is the process of taking a person or persons out of their current situation, and displacing them to somewhere completely different and random. After the Magical Displacement, the displaced will have no memory of their previous life, even to the extreme of forgetting their magical powers. After the International Decree of 1922, Magical Displacement was outlawed and is punishable by a sentence in Azkaban._"

"What do you think?" Hermione asked, excitedly. "It sounds right, doesn't it?"

Harry nodded, scanning the passage once more.

"It'd fit with what happened," he said, and glanced at his parents. They both wore expressions of shock on their faces.

"Who'd want to do that to us, though?" Lily asked, her brow furrowed.

"Well," Hermione said thoughtfully, "perhaps it wasn't someone who meant you harm. Perhaps it was someone who knew what Voldemort was going to do, and wanted to save you."

"Who'd do that, though?" Harry said, and then it felt as though a light had been switched on in his head. "Snape!"

"Snape?" Hermione sounded doubtful, and Lily and James looked confused, "I don't know…"

"It makes perfect sense," Harry cried, then glanced significantly at Lily, "he had a good reason."

"It doesn't add up though, Harry. If it had been Snape, why didn't he tell you? He was a good man, in the end. He would have told you, or Dumbledore even."

"Who else would it have been then?" Harry replied, and Hermione shook her head.

Harry and Hermione spent the rest of the afternoon talking about their first year at Hogwarts. It all seemed so long ago, but Harry enjoyed being able to tell his parents these things.

He hadn't been able to do it at the time.

--


End file.
